


Midnight Fireworks

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Holidays, Masquerade Ball, New Year's Eve, One Shot, Secrets Revealed, T for one kink discussion between a married couple, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, married!everlark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: Married couple, Katniss and Peeta, dance the night away at a Masquerade Ball charity event, and share sweet surprises with one another before ringing in the new year with a kiss!A Secret Santa gift for the 2020 Season’s of Hope Exchange!
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39
Collections: The Hunger Games 2020 Season of Hope Holiday Gift Exchange





	Midnight Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elricsister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elricsister/gifts).



> Prompt: Everlark go to a masquerade ball at New Years... one of them has a big secret. Oneshot. Happy ending.
> 
> Unbetaed. Fanfiction. 
> 
> Dear Elricsister, I hope you enjoy this little gift, and it does justice to what you had in mind. Have a great and healthy 2021!

Lively, old timey, Swing music floats in the air mixed with jovial conversation, laughter and the clinking of champagne flutes and wine glasses, indication of the grand ol’ time people are having in the ballroom of Panem’s convention center.

It’s a balmy 45°F out tonight; unseasonably warm for a December 31st in North Carolina, really, but I’m eternally grateful to the higher powers controlling the weather, because covering my outfit with a puffy coat this evening, should be considered a crime!

My friend Cinna worked extremely hard creating the red, strapless number I’m wearing tonight! The man is a genius with a bit of fabric and a tape measure, my gown is proof of it. He managed to make it look like I’m a walking flame every time I move and the light reflects off the hundreds of little crystals he embroidered into the full skirt of the dress, while also giving me a pair of discrete pockets to hide my hands in, if I need it.

Normally, I’m not much for fashion, preferring simple slacks and blouses that can easily blend into the background, like the wallflower I am naturally. Being the center of attention makes me uncomfortable and irritated, but tonight is different. For one, this is a charity event our friend Madge Undersee— Mayor of Panem— is sponsoring to benefit disabled children, a cause very close to mine and my husband’s hearts. Second, and what I’m most grateful for, this is a masquerade ball, and everyone is supposed to stay incognito for the most part.

In a nutshell, I get to dress up like a cake topper princess, yet remain in blissful anonymity in a very crowded dance party!

I breathe in the surprisingly liberating notion, that behind my elaborate mask, I’m protected from unwanted attention.

“You okay there?” Peeta, my husband of five years, asks, always attuned with my every mood shift.

I look up and give him a genuine smile, squeezing the forearm I’ve looped my hand through.

“Never better,” I whisper.

Peeta smiles back, and my heart does a little somersault in my chest. His blue eyes are so sweet and bright, not even his mask could obscure them and make them look threatening or mysterious, something I happen to find very appealing. I love the fact that he’s familiar to me even in disguise.

I take an extra long look at my husband, and think to myself I am lucky to have him; handsome, kind, and oh so smart. Warmth fills my chest, and I strain up, as far as my delicate two inch heels allow, to kiss his cheek.

Peeta smiles down at me, pleased, and squeezes my hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

“Shall we?” He asks, nodding to the sprawling ballroom before us.

“We shall!”

We make our way around people conversing along the edges of the dance floor, which takes more than half of the space. Madge was serious when she said she wanted people to mingle and dance, instead of just sitting around, statically.

Her choice for a live, big band was truly smart, judging by the amount of people twirling around on the dance floor. Even I find myself smiling and bobbing my head to the rhythm of the music.

“Wow, great turn out!” Peeta comments, watching the busy dance floor and the even busier beverage bar at the end of the venue.

“This is great! I’m so proud and happy for Madge. She worked real hard to make this event happen. I’m glad people responded!”

“Me too!” Peeta agrees.

“You think we would be able to see her in this crowd?” I wonder standing on my toes, craning my neck and scanning the room for my friend, the mayor, which is silly, since I’m already wearing heels and I have no idea what Madge’s dress looks like, other than it’s white with golden birds embroidered on the bodice.

“We’ll keep an eye out for her.”

There are round tables lining the outer edge of the ballroom, big enough to sit eight people evenly spaced. I know the event organizers wanted this to be a real social event, where people of all walks of life could connect and create links that would benefit our town, without the pressure of identity and preconceived notions. Still, I look for the emptiest table to sit down at.

I’m glad Cinna added big enough pockets to my gown, because I don’t need a purse to carry around my stuff, and the convention center set up a convenient coat check station at the entrance of the building, so everyone is unencumbered by their jackets and other outerwear.

A waiter approaches to offer champagne and water, then instructs us to visit the wet bar for complimentary drinks and the appetizer and dessert tables on each side of the bar. The young man reminds us that a meal will be served upon request in about an hour, if we’ve purchased tickets for it in advance.

Peeta massages my lower back with the tip of his fingers when the waiter walks away, and I relax into my husband’s warm touch.

“Will you like a snack first, or dance?” His eyes sparkle under the low lights, “I heard the desserts were catered by this awesome bakery—”

I elbow him weakly, because I’m trying to hold back my loud cackles, but then I’m thinking hard about my options…

It shouldn’t be such a hard choice, really, whether to eat scrumptious food, or dance with a handsome man in a mask, but I’m almost torn…There's live ragtime type music playing, very hard not to tap a foot listening to the fast tempo beats… and then, there’s Peeta, looking like an absolute snack in his tux and his Venetian black and red mask… what’s a girl to do?!

“Let’s dance,” I smile faintly, “one song, then food!” I amend.

Peeta chuckles, “Sounds good to me, come on then!”

I giggle when he spins me around under his arm, and pulls me to the dance floor with a flourish. No one watching us dance would ever guess such a graceful dancer is wearing a prosthetic leg.

Peeta is possibly the strongest person I know, physically and emotionally. He’s perhaps the person I look up to the most, and admire him for who he is and what he’s overcome. He lost his limb at 16, after being bitten by a rabid dog; his dreams of being a firefighter and his budding success as a high school wrestler went away with his leg, but he never let his circumstances make him bitter about his lot in life. Peeta never stopped caring for others and helping the community anyway he could; so it’s no surprise we jumped at the opportunity to participate in this masquerade, when we heard the magnificent goals the mayor wants to achieve with the funds raised tonight.

Peeta and I twirl around the dance floor like we don’t have a care in the world, enjoying the music and festive atmosphere, and before we know it, an hour has slipped by with lots of laughter and a thorough workout. My feet have started to ache, but I just shrug it off because tonight I feel like a real life Cinderella, and our magic night out will come to an end at the stroke of midnight.

The band leader announces a speech from Mayor Margaret Undersee, and the whole room cheers.

Madge steps forward, looking radiant in her white and gold mermaid cut dress and her dainty, feathered mask.

“Welcome to our Charity Masquerade Ball, everyone! It is an honor and a privilege to have you all come ring in the new year with us, while raising funds to a noble cause as is children's wellbeing. Your direct donations, entry cover and the fee per dish you contributed tonight is all going to the Panem Outreach Program for Disable Children, and it is my honor to announce we’ve raised three hundred thousand dollars in the last three hours!”

That announcement gets a standing ovation; some people are even hugging each other. A little over a quarter of a million dollars may not sound like much, but in a community as tiny as ours, it is a lot, considering most of the people here are small business owners, like Peeta and I, who run the town bakery together.

“Well done everyone, and many thanks for your generosity in this wonderful time! Let’s continue celebrating, and don’t forget we still have a few events to come, like the New Year’s raffle, and the silent auction. If you’re interested in participating on either or both of those, pay a visit to the booths at the end of the hall. Thank you all, and have a blessed new year!”

We all applaud as Madge steps down from the stage, and the band leader picks the mic up once more to start another toe-tapping set.

“Wanna go say hi and congratulate Madge for a great event?” Asks Peeta, smiling broadly.

I nod, grinning back, “Please!”

We make our way through the busy venue, looking for Madge, who’s shaking hands with all kinds of people, while her fiancé, Thom Bristol, stands a foot away, smiling pleasantly at all the well wishers crowding his future wife.

When we finally reach the end of the long queue of greeters, I lift my mask just enough that Madge can see a flash of my face. Her tired grin tells me all what her words can’t express.

“Katniss, Peeta, you’re here!” Our friend throws her arms around me, instead of shaking my hand like she’s done with everyone else.

“We are!” I say.

“Have you been enjoying the party?” She asks, pulling back to look me in the eye.

I can sense her unspoken anxiety, and all I can do is beam at her with my best smile, “It’s been wonderful!”

Madge smiles back, and then she greets Peeta while I hug Thom.

“Congratulations, madam Mayor,” says my husband, “you’ve done an excellent job tonight.”

It’s true, and I can only hope every event she does during her term is as successful as this one, because it’s not easy being the youngest ever Mayor, and also being the first woman to hold the office. Is evident Madge truly cares for our community, and I really hope others can see it as well.

“Thank you both.” She says genuinely. “Thank you for being here, for your support.” Her voice breaks a little and I’m aware of the long line of people behind me, waiting to greet her as well, so I lunge forward to wrap her into a quick, tight hug. “The cupcakes taste delicious, Peeta. I already stress-ate about five of them... I’m afraid my own staff is about to ban me from the desserts table,” Madge sniffles.

I step forward and hug her again. “I’m so proud of you, Madge! Your father would be proud too if he was here. Now, don’t cry, we can’t let the paparazzi see our Mayor tearing up, can we now?”

She chuckles, wiping an errand tear, “No! But I’m truly happy you guys came.” My friend smiles at me. “Means a lot!”

Then something quirky happens, Madge winks at Peeta. “Hope tonight is as magical as can be,” says my friend cryptically.

Peeta’s ears turn pink under the soft lights, and he smiles sideways. “Oh, it’s been one for the books alright.”

“Good! Now go have some more fun, eat some of the delicious food and go make great memories together… don’t forget to take lots of pictures!”

We say quick goodbyes, knowing it’ll be a miracle if we get to have another chance to mingle with Madge tonight. We can always see her at another time, though.

“Are you hungry?” Peeta asks, while we make our way back to the tables.

“You know it!” My stomach has been growling for a while, but we’ve been having so much fun, I keep ignoring it. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been hungry, only right now is voluntary and I know food is available when I’m ready to ask for it.

We sit down and Peeta flags a waiter over, giving him the two tickets we bought weeks ago for our meals, and soon enough our table is filled with scrumptious roast and turkey dinners, a basket of Peeta’s best dinner rolls, and warm, creamy butter, fresh from Mr. Dalton’s farm. We got to choose our orders beforehand. They had a vegetarian option, as well as a kosher option, and a gluten-free one. Madge really thought of everything for tonight.

I place a cloth napkin across my lap, and eat carefully, to keep my gorgeous gown spill free. I don’t know when I’ll ever have the opportunity to wear it again, but I want to keep it nice and pristine, just the same.

The waiting staff bring water glasses, and offer a variety of other beverages. I’m happy just gustling water, so I thank the man, and decline politely for any spirits or soft drinks. Peeta does the same, which surprises me, since he’s a Dr. Pepper junky, and Dr. Pepper was one of the options available.

A few minutes later, another couple joins us, and really, I need no supernatural ability to recognize these characters, just by their looks.

“Good evening!” Greets the woman that can only be Effie Trinket, in a loud, shocking pink dress, high heels that would make Lady Gaga green with envy, and a matching, big hair wig, with glittering pretend sparklers, sticking out of her curls all over her head. She reminds me of a Dr. Seuss character rather than Panem’s most popular wedding planner. “Will it be too inconvenient if we sat with you, handsome pair?” Inquires the woman, already pulling out a chair, before we can agree.

“Please, it’ll be our pleasure,” invites Peeta, standing up and gesturing to the four empty chairs around our table.

The gentleman slouching close by, didn’t even bother with a mask.

“Haymitch,” Peeta greets, extending a hand to shake.

“Boy,” the man replies, dragging the chair back, earning a reproachful glare from his on again-off again lady friend.

“How did you know it was me?” Peeta asks, confused; I can hear the edge of disappointment in his voice.

“Kid, there ain’t nowhere in hell I wouldn’t recognize the scowl on that woman of yours, and if she wasn’t already sticking out like a sore thumb, your physiques alone would be a dead giveaway.”

I narrow my eyes at the man.

“Haymitch! Manners!” Chastises Effie Trinket.

“Charming as ever.” I mutter, under my breath, and simply sip on my water, before giving Effie a quick greeting.

Haymitch and Effie request their meals be brought to them, and I’m not at all surprise when Haymitch orders vodka to go with his meal.

He shrugs, “It’s free…”

“Shouldn’t be sitting near an open flame,” I say, looking quickly at Effie’s hair.

“Fake flame?” He retorts. “You’re slipping, Sweetheart. I’m disappointed, you could do better insults back in the day. You’re getting soft,”

Haymitch Abernathy was a mentor of sorts for me and Peeta. A _life coach_ for lack a better word, which is strange, since the man is a raging alcoholic— a very high functioning alcoholic, really— yet his advice on overcoming trauma is impeccable.

My father died when I was eleven, and my mother suffered extreme depression after becoming a widow. My mother limped along long enough for me to reach the age of nineteen, before taking her own life and practically left me and my sister Primrose, who was only 15 at the time, destitute and homeless.

I had already been taking care of Prim since our father died, but even while my mother was alive and working, we could barely scrape by with our meager earnings. I did odd jobs here and there, nothing more involved than a bagger or store clerk at the supermarket.

I dropped out of school to work a full time job right before my mother died; and perhaps out of all the things my mother allowed to happen while she was mentally incapacitated by grief, losing our house— the one my father built with his own hands for our family, the only place I considered a home and where I was last happy before Peeta came into my life— is the only thing I still can’t completely forgive her for. 

I was desperately trying to keep Primrose with me, and out of the system, but our situation was at best precarious, until Peeta— a boy a barely knew from grade school— stepped in, finding me work at his family’s bakery, and not only that, but convincing his father to let me live in the small apartment above the shop for next to pennies. 

After Mr. Mellark— Peeta’s father— heard my story, he placed one condition on the deal I really couldn’t reject: Primrose and I could live in the apartment above the bakery for free, if went back to school on weekends to earn my GED diploma. I also had to open shop every day, but that was the least of the caveats on my arrangement with the baker. 

Thanks to the Mellark’s generosity, I was able to keep my sister with me, earn my GED while also having a steady income source, and later I was even able to earn an associates degree in business from community college. 

Romance with my boss’s son didn’t come until much later. Since I didn’t have to pay for rent for a few years, I saved up a substantial amount of money originally thinking on Prim’s higher education, but my little sister got a full ride scholarship to Med School, and suddenly, I was living on my own above the bakery, and it just didn’t sit well with me, staying there without paying, abusing Mr. Mellark’s graciousness, so I moved out, into a tiny one bedroom house close to the bakery.

Peeta had gone to culinary school during those years, becoming a pastry chef. Mr. Mellark decided it was time to retire, and left his business to his son, who in turn asked me if I could help him manage the store part of the business, since I had a shiny degree I wasn’t using. 

Working with Peeta in close quarters and late nights, became the norm, and since I was finally in a place where I wasn’t drowning to get by and keep Prim fed, clothed and in by my side, well... love just happened between me and the new baker. It was meant to be, really. 

We married pretty quickly after dating for three months. I guess I knew it would’ve happened anyway.

Prim is a doctor now, working towards her specialty in pediatrics, and loving her career.

I couldn’t be any prouder, but to get here, we had to sacrifice much, not that I’m complaining about it. Not when I’m eating amazing food, and dancing the night away with a truly amazing man while contributing to a deserving cause. Plus, the new year is a time to reflect and be grateful for the blessings of the present, and not dwell on the hurts of the past.

“You two look beautiful,” says Effie Trinket, dragging me out of my dark memories. “Did Cinna make your outfits?”

Peeta responds for me, since I decided to shovel mash potatoes into my mouth right then.

”He did! His sister, Portia, designed the masks to compliment the ensamble,” Peeta smiles broadly, gesturing to the mask covering half his face.  
  
The piece is made of a soft material, covered in black satin and decorated with red accents to match my red dress and Peeta’s red vest under his black tux jacket. 

The conversation goes back and forth about the clothing, the venue, the band, and the amazing job Madge has done so far, which is why mostly the only time I join in the chat, and quickly go back to my dinner.

Haymitch seems to have given up listening completely, and is falling asleep in his chair.

I look at Peeta’s plate, and notice it’s been practically wiped clean, so I push the little bit left of my candied cranberry mush away, and start shaking my leg restlessly.

“Would you like to dance, Katniss?” He asks after a moment.

I nod.

Peeta turns to our table mates, and starts excusing us, just for Effie to shoo us off.

“Darlings! This is a big, big, big night, and you two are young and full of life, go dance and be merry!” Effie enthuses.

Peeta stands and helps me out of my chair like a perfect gentleman, and soon we are on the dance floor, wrapped around each other, spinning in a close circle, since the band has switched to playing slow ballads now. It’s a dance with barely any steps, we could do on a pie dish, really.

I rest my head on my husband’s shoulder and sigh in contentment. 

“Are you tired?” Peeta asks, kissing my cheek tenderly.

“Just a little. You know what they say about eating turkey... it makes you sleepy.” I smile. 

“Mmm. Well, I hope you’re not too tired, because…” he hesitates for a moment.

“I know, it’s New Year’s Eve, and it’ll be totally lame to leave before the countdown and the kissing, and singing A _uld Lang Syne_ , and all the traditions,” I let go of his shoulder to make a hand gesture.

“No, it’s not that. I mean, it’s true, how lame it’ll be to leave early, but… would anyone really notice, or care if we did?”

We stop dancing to stare at each.

“Do you have anything in mind?” I ask.

“I might,” he says coyly. “You won’t know unless we leave…” he trails off, leaving the choice to me.

I look back at our table, where Haymitch is snoring loudly, and Effie is looking more embarrassed by the second, trying to jab her two inch nails into his chest to wake him up to no avail. I see Madge somewhere in the distance, still surrounded by a swarm of well-wishers...

“Madge said she hired the best fireworks show her office could pay for, to close the evening,” I say, scanning the ballroom floor.

“Oh, we can see the show from the place I’m hoping to take you to, if you don’t mind watching from afar.”

I bite my lip, and then I find his sweet blue eyes. I nod, decidedly. “Come on then,” and drag him out of the hall, gathering my puffy skirts to avoid tripping on them, Cinderella style.

Peeta’s vibrating with nervous energy the entire time; we board our car and his eyes keep shifting between my face and the road.

I offer to drive for him twice, before he shots me down, on account that he doesn’t want to just give me directions that could ruin the surprise.

It’s a short drive; five minutes tops, before we park in a deserted alleyway. 

“Um, Peeta…?”

“Put this over your eyes,” he orders quietly, passing me a bandana.

“Honey, if you’re going for kinky tonight, can I suggest you choose just one thing and go with it? I can either do sex in the car in an alley, or sensory deprivation stuff at home in a familiar environment, but I’m really not willing to do both—“

“Sweetheart,” my husband interrupts, with an incredulous laugh, “while both options sound incredibly sexy, and totally tempting, and believe me, now that you’ve offer the choices, I’m gonna be thinking about it until I can take you up on them... but, there’s something I need to show you first, and I rather share with you what I’ve been working on, before I ravage you in bed. I also want you to be surprised when I finally reveal my secret. So… please, turn around so I can cover your eyes?”

I give him a quizzical look, but I trust him with my life, so I comply, turning so he can tie the bandana around my head.

“Alright!” He says when he’s made sure I can’t see anything. “Let’s go!” He turns the ignition back on and start moving. A beat goes by, and then my husband mutters, “I personally would much rather have sexy times with you wearing that mask... but... your ideas have an incredible amount of merit, sweetheart,”

I chuff a laugh, and blindly smack at him open handed. “Oh my gosh, Peeta! Stop teasing or you’ll get nothing!” But we are both laughing and blushing, so we both know my threats are empty. He can have his way with me any time he wants, and he knows it! 

“We’re here...” I hear nervous shakiness in Peeta’s voice, and my heart starts beating frantically.

I’m not fond of surprises. My husband and I don’t keep secrets from each other… normally… unless there’s a big payout when the secret is finally revealed, that is.

I’ve been sitting on a big secret for days myself, but I was planning on sharing some exciting— yet scary— news with him during the fireworks tonight, but… I’m too curious to see what could my husband be hiding from me, that warrants all this pomp and circumstance? 

We park slowly, and sit there in silence for a few seconds.

“Katniss,” Peeta exhales shakily, “you mean the world to me, sweetheart, and I love more than words can say. You sacrificed so much to make sure Primrose had a good life, and now I want to make sure you have the same.”

”Peeta...” 

“I got you something,” he continues, “I know you’ve always dream of having this back, and since I happen to believe you deserve the moon and stars, but realistically I can’t bring those down for you, I figured this is the next best thing,”

He hops out of the car, and second later he opens my door, and has me hold onto his arm, while he guides me out of my seat and into a curb.

He takes a second, positions me where he wants me, and then, pulls off my eye coverings.

I nearly drop to my knees, sobbing, when my eyes adjust to the sight in front of me.

A pair of familiar columns and a wrap-around porch greet my sight; a newly poured driveway leading to a two car garage door that didn’t use to be there before, meets my perusal next; and a front door with a fresh coat of red paint, replaces the broken one that was in its place less than a year ago, when I drove by, when I was feeling nostalgic. 

I remember commenting to my husband on the deplorable state the place was, since it’s been abandoned. How I lamented nobody took care of it, and the structure was now slowly rotting.

“It’s… it’s my house!” I cry out, turning to look at him imploringly. “It’s my parents house! My daddy built this place himself!”

It’s the only place I ever felt loved, and safe, and cared for until I met Peeta. 

“How?” I ask in awe at the house, fully restored back in its old glory, and even improved upon. 

Peeta smiles, shrugging a shoulder as if all the work he put into this place in secret was no big feat. “Prim gave me her blessing, along with some old pictures. Madge helped a lot too,” he smiles, “it pays to be well connected you know, having friends in high places and all that,”

Suddenly that wink my best friend shared with my husband during the ball makes sense, she was in on this amazing surprise.

“Without her mayoral approval, it would’ve been a bureaucratic nightmare to get all the permits in order and have this completed by now. And without Prim’s help, you would’ve found out sooner.”

I throw myself at him, my arms wrap around his neck, while I cover every inch of his face I can reach on tip-toes with kisses. 

“Come on, you haven’t seen anything yet!” Peeta pulls me forward, fishing a small box from his pants pocket and handed it to me. “Open it!” He urges.

Theres a shiny key inside the box. I peer up at my sweet, beautiful man, and he winks.

”Go for it!” 

The key fits in the keyhole and soon we are inside the house. 

I’m in awe at all the details he’s kept from the original. He explains the changes and upgrades he made during the remodeling, such as a tankless water heater, and a new AC system. New electric wiring for the whole place, and brand new appliances for our renovated kitchen. The master bedroom and bathroom got an uplift too. And he finished the basement, so Prim can have a comfortable, private space when she comes to visit. 

It seems my hubby thought of everything!

Then he leads to me backyard, and rubs his neck self consciously. “I didn’t do much out here. I figured this is your area of expertise, plus Prim couldn’t quite remember how your father’s garden looked like... so, I just cleaned up the overgrown stuff, and left it as a blank canvas for you to do as you please.”

I’m tearing up again, just admiring the bare grounds of my old family home, and seeing with my minds eye the garden and the shape of people playing in the yard that aren’t with us any longer. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, cautiously.

”Like it? It’s perfect! I love it!” I hug him, kissing his cheek. I swallow my nerves a d decide this is as good a time as any, and steel myself. It’s my time to confess my secret. “And the best part is that we can put back the tire swing on that tree over there, the same place my daddy hung ours from, for the baby!” I say more cheerful than I expected I’d sound saying the words, but I can’t help the giddiness filling my chest.

”Yeah, I saw the swing on the pictures, but I figured—“ Peeta suddenly falls silent. He’s still as a statue for beat, and then he’s slowing turning to face me.   
  
I’m grinning up at him, like the Cheshire Cat of Alice in Wonderland. 

“Oh, you thought you were the only one with secret New Year surprises?” I smirk. “Two can play at that, you know—“

I don’t finish the thought, because Peeta’s grabbed my face and starts kissing me like there’s no tomorrow. Then he steps away, a d his blue eyes widen to saucer size.

”Are you...? Are we...? Am I—?”

”Gonna be a daddy,” I smile at him fondly, and there are tears on his face and smile on his lips before he hugs me to his chest and spins me around, laughing and crying. 

Peeta holds my hands aloft and pushes back to give me a once over, “Let me ask again,” he says, “I gotta make sure I’m not dreaming this,” I giggle, “We’re having a baby, real or not real?”

I bite my lip, and nod, “Real, Peeta. We are having a baby, sometime in the summer,”

”Yes!” He crows, pumping his fist in the air, before wrapping his arms around me again, “I love you, Katniss!” He kisses me exuberantly.

”I love you too!” 

And then we hear the faint pop of fireworks, and the yard illuminates with the multicolored blooms of light in the night sky. A new year is being herald amidst our joy for once!

Peeta checks his watch, still holding on to me, “It’s midnight...” he cups my cheeks tenderly. “Happy new year, Sweetheart,” he says, leaning into me.

”Happy new year, Peeta,” I meet his lips to ring in the new year in traditional fashion, thinking of the lyrics:

_For auld lang syne, my dear_  
_For auld lang syne_  
_We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet_  
_For days of auld lang syne._

**Author's Note:**

>  _Auld Lang Syne_ is traditionally sang during New Year’s Eve celebrations, and it literally translates into “Times long passed”. Is a song about reminiscing on the good old friendships of years pasts. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to all, and may 2021 treat us all nicer than 2020. Stay healthy and safe!


End file.
